


A Brand New Place to Sleep

by LizRambler



Series: Sleepovers [14]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: F/M, Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2020-05-22
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:20:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23904514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizRambler/pseuds/LizRambler
Summary: Donna Noble slammed into the body of her Pete's World Double tries to convince her Pete's World Grandad to make a connection with her. Rose & the Metacrisis Doctor help out while dealing with their own silly relationship.
Relationships: Donna Noble & Rose Tyler, Metacrisis Tenth Doctor & Donna Noble, The Doctor/Metacrisis Tenth Doctor/Rose Tyler
Series: Sleepovers [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1531835
Comments: 68
Kudos: 65





	1. Chapter 1

“Why am I so nervous?” Donna asked the Doctor.

The mostly alien in question had his hands stuffed in his pockets looking as, if not more nervous than she. “Erm, because it’s weird. He’s your granddad but he’s not your granddad but for all intents and purposes he is your granddad. And you know him so well, and yet, you’ve never even met. That’s...weird.”

“Stop saying ‘grandad.’ I swear you make everything more awkward. I should have brought Rose,” Donna lamented giving him a shove to relieve the stress.

He grinned, playfully shoving her back. “You really should have.”

They scuffled a bit, laughing before Donna’s nerves reasserted themselves, making her still. “Do you think he’ll even see me?”

“Only one way to find out,” he said and leaned forward to ring the bell. 

“Oh, I could strangle you! I wasn’t ready!” Donna stared at the plain brown door within the facility. Everyone had their own room but they were small. Donna’s memories from that other Donna told her that the room was a cell with a chair, table, TV, and twin bed. There were a few pictures scattered around to make it a little less impersonal. Donna knew this and didn’t believe it until she saw it with her own eyes. 

The door popped open. “There’s no way I’m joining that poker game, Charlie, Gladis cheats. I’m not having her take my last quid---Oh!”

Donna pasted a smile on her face, wiping sweaty palms down the front of her dark jeans. Beside her the Doctor had schooled his expression to neutral curiosity. For his part, her granddad was dressed in a faded pair of jeans with a hole in one knee and a worn blue jumper. “Hiya Gramps.”

Oh, it hadn’t been that long for her but Donna drank in his appearance. His hair was snow white and curling. He looked a bit thinner than she remembered and his expression wasn’t as friendly as she remembered. That was also okay because he was here! He was her granddad. Her smile ratcheted up to a bit manic.

Cautiously, her granddad opened his door wider. He backed away from the door letting her inside without actually inviting her. She and the Doctor exchanged worried glances. He moved to his chair and sat down. “I ain’t got any money to spare, sweetheart. I’ve barely enough to sneak the occasional tin of biscuits in here.”

“I’m not here for money.” Donna flipped through the other Donna's memories, trying to find out if she’d borrowed money before. She had. Loads of times. “I’ve got a job.”

“Oh?” He watched her waiting for the other shoe to drop. Donna felt her plans dissolving into muck. He was never going to go for this. “And who’s your friend? New fiance?”

They sputtered talking over each other, “No, never, nope, just friends.”

“I’m the...I’m a Noble actually, John Noble but everyone calls me the Doctor. S’a nickname sort of,” the Doctor rambled moving around the room and touching things. Donna clicked at him. He drifted back to her side, pouting a bit.

“Related to Geoff then, are you?” Grand Dad asked.

“Yep, we share a bit of DNA, he and I,” the Doctor said.

“Just say cousins, you dumbo,” Donna said out of the side of her mouth. 

The Doctor nodded and said, “Cousins, we’re cousins.”

“Distant ones,” Donna added to needle him. 

The Doctor snorted. 

“So, just a nickname then or are you an actual doctor?” Granddad asked, pulling a pack of cigarettes out of the table’s small drawer.

“Yeah, I’ve got several doctorates and a medical license… I don’t practice medicine but I do know enough to tell you that those aren’t great for your health,” the Doctor remarked. 

Donna itched to swipe the pack and crush them. Instead, she barreled on with the plan. “Yeah, the Doctor is a doctor of all sorts of science-y stuff. He works in BigBen. I do too. That’s where I got my job. I do all this one’s paperwork for him. We had the same last name and found out we were related. Isn’t that fun?” 

“What’s all this got to do with me, sweetheart? You haven’t been to see me in ages. Then you bring a stranger with you. What’s on your mind, Donna?” 

Donna cursed the other Donna-may she rest in peace. She wasn’t making this easy. “I’ve--I’ve got a new flat. It’s a two-bedroom near the Thames.”

“Well, that must be a helluva new job,” Granddad said, perking up.

“Yeah, it was a lucky break. And I want to share it with you,” Donna said.

He stared. Donna wilted. The Doctor fidgeted. “I’ll just go find a commissary or something. Coffee?” He bolted, the miserable coward.

“Look Gramps, I’ve changed. I’m not the same Donna you knew. I’m turning over a new leaf. I want to make things up to you…” Donna told him.

He crossed his arms. Not a great sign.

“Come live with me in my new flat. I’ve room. I want you to come.” Donna stopped talking when her granddad started glowering.

“No thank you,” he said. “I’ve been through this before with you. I’m not losing my place for you to turn around and meet Mr. Not Right and turf me out. Donna, I love you but you are a difficult granddaughter.”

“I know, I know,” Donna agreed quickly.

“And what about your mother? Is she included in your making amends? Your brother?” he demanded. “I bet you haven’t even called your mother or Donald.”

“I saw Donald two weeks ago,” Donna said, lips pursed. “It did not go well. But that doesn’t mean you and I can’t--”

“I’m sorry darling,” Granddad said with dull eyes. “I don’t believe you.”

“Right,” Donna said, tugging her shirt down to straighten it out. “I’ll just have to prove it to you.”

“Ha, fat chance,” Wilfred Mott replied.

Donna’s smile turned into a thin pressed line as she choked back an angry retort or tears or both. This was the man she loved most, well a version of him anyhow and she wasn’t giving up. One thing Donna Noble could handle was stubborn. “Tell me what I need to do to convince you.”

“Nothing,” he grumped.

“Oh I’m not doing nothing, old man, you watch me,” Donna growled.  
She caught the Doctor in the hall skulking. He had not gotten coffee. “You were no help.”

Rose spotted the Doctor wandering around the cafeteria, searching for her no doubt. She waved. He beamed and changed direction to drop down into the chair opposite her. He was in a charcoal gray suit today with a sleek silver pinstripe. He hadn’t bothered with a tie and his buttondown was barely buttoned. His hair was messy. She reached out and fluffed it for him. 

“Wilf was not happy to see Donna,” the Doctor confessed. “He doesn’t believe she’s nice now.”

“That’s not fair, we don’t know that the other one was not nice,” Rose said, pushing her half-eaten muffin toward him. 

“I do,” he said after taking a big bite out of the muffin. “I cataloged those memories. She was unpleasant, to put it mildly. This is good!” 

“Mum made them. She’s promised to send us home with a few,” Rose said and waved at her mother behind the counter. Her mum liked working in the canteen. She was rich as all get out and still liked having a job. It made Rose proud. Well, almost everything Jackie did made Rose proud, except when she and the Doctor were on opposite ends. Then her mother made her exasperated… So did the Doctor come to think of it. They seemed to be getting on well these days.

“She’s improving! Should I tell her she’s improving? I should. Let me just…” He stood up and shouted, “Oi! Jackie! These muffins are brilliant!” People turned to stare as he waved enthusiastically at her.

Jackie tossed a muffin at his head. Lightning reflexes meant he caught it instead of getting brained by it. He saluted Jackie who smirked and dropped back into his chair. “She’s alright, your mum,” he added before tearing into the new muffin.

“You say that this week,” Rose teased to see his eyes twinkle. “Now how do we help Donna?”

“Erm, war of attrition, I think,” the Doctor said, spraying crumbs everywhere.

Rose raised her eyebrows.

Sheepishly, he wiped up the crumbs. “Sorry, m’hungry.”

“Go on.”

“Oh, right, so step one: Donna is going to see him every day to show him that she’s invested. Also, the other one borrowed like five thousand pounds off of him. She didn’t even need it. Her bank account isn’t as bad as she led her friend to think… Step two is to pay him back. She’s going to give her friend money too. Donna thinks she might be able to make it up to the woman. Phase three is… I don’t know what phase three is. I got distracted by this red squirrel who resembled a Pakkar. I called to it in their language and I think it understood me. Going to stake out the park later…” He finished his muffin and folded the paper into an origami crane.

Rose screamed internally. He obviously had been affected by seeing Wilf today and was being a bit extra to cover. Since she wasn’t allowed to strangle him for having a hard time processing complicated human emotions with a Time Lord brain, she reached out and caught his hand. She squeezed. He settled a bit. “S’weird seeing an unhappy Wilf.”

“I only met him the one time and he was very brave.” Rose caught his eye. “Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

“Only because they wouldn’t let me help,” he complained. “I had the anti-grav sled all ready to go and Romulus said I was a demon. Me, a demon.” The twinkle in his eyes let her know he was full of shit. 

“Oh, I don’t know, you’d make one helluva a demon, all tall, gangly and hot,” she teased.

“With red hair,” he added. “I wish there was something we could do to help Donna,” he said sadly.

And that’s how Rose Tyler ended up at Wilf’s front door with an armload of Astronomer’s Weekly. She knocked with a confidence she wasn’t feeling. Donna might get upset with her for interfering but she wanted things to work out. The door opened. “Hi,” Rose said with a million ‘i’s.

“No soliciting,” Wilf said.

“I’m not selling anything,” Rose assured him. “I just thought you might want a few of these back issues. I have it on good authority that you like the stars.” She held up the magazines.

He let her in. “I suppose you’re one of those pesky volunteers? Always trying to get me to quit smoking and garden, are you?”

“Nah, I’m the Vitex Heiress,” Rose said, scratching at the side of her mouth.

“Community service then? Were you joyriding?” Wilf offered her a cup of tea. 

She took it with a laugh. “Thanks. No trouble. My trouble days are over. Well, I say over but I mean sanctioned by the government. I’m a spy, sort of.”

Wilfred Mott cracked up. “You’re a live one! Give those magazines here! I used to have a subscription ages ago. Thank you for bringing them. But you can’t just be roaming around looking for an ex amateur astronomers. What brings a lovely spy heiress to my door?”

“My friend Donna,” Rose said and watched the smile slide off his warm features.

“My granddaughter? What did she do to you?” he asked with an air of disappointment.

Rose bit her lip. “Nothing, she’s been great. I think you misunderstood me, I’m here to talk her up a bit to you. She’s changed a lot...for the better. She’s a brand new person. I was hoping to convince you to give her a second chance.”

Wilf was angry. “I’ve given those grandchildren of mine hundreds of chances. I love them, God help me but they are hard to love. What makes you think you know my Donna better than I do, miss?”

“Tyler, Rose Tyler,” she said, thinking fast. Nothing for it but the truth… “Mr. Mott, your granddaughter was in a car accident a while back.”

“What? She never said--?” The genuine panic on his face was a good sign that this might work. Rose felt bad for the emotional manipulation but it was in his best interest. She had seen the rating on this place and the carpet beneath her feet was worn to the woof. And if she wasn’t mistaken, Wilf wore bulkier clothes to hide the fact that he was losing weight. She had to give the war of attrition a push in the right direction. 

“Well, she wouldn’t, would she? Stubborn woman, Donna,” she said with sympathy.

Wilf smiled. “You’ve got that part right. She never backed down from a fight. Even when she was a little bit of a thing, she would fight like a hellcat.”

Rose smiled. “Yeah, that’s our Donna. Like I was saying, she was hit by a car in Westminster two weeks ago. I think it really rattled her. We had been interviewing her for a position in our company and as we left, she was hit. My father, Pete Tyler, and I took her to the hospital where she was brain dead for several minutes.” He gasped and Rose felt a pang of angst for upsetting him. She pushed through. “When she regained consciousness, her brother came to see her. When he found out he wasn’t there to pull the plug, he wasn’t thrilled.”

“I’m sorry for him, Rose,” Wilf said, reaching out to catch her hand in his papery one. “Their relationship soured with their parents' divorce. Still, that was cruel.”

She squeezed his fingers. “Yes, and it shook her up. She told me and my fiance that she was going to let that old Donna die. Believe me, Mr. Mott, she’s a whole new Donna. Won’t you give her a chance?”

Wilf’s eyes brimmed with tears. He shook her hand. “I want to believe you.”

“Then believe me. Just don’t tell her or my fiance that I was here. I don’t think she wanted you to know she was so close to death.” Rose lowered her eyes demurely. “I shouldn’t have said it and upset you.”

“No, sweetheart, you did right by my granddaughter,” Wilf said, patting her hand. “Now come and look through these with me awhile and tell me a good spy tale.”

“You know I can’t do that,” Rose teased.

He raised his fingers up in a pinch. “Oh, just a little one, Miss Tyler?”

“Oh, alright, and it’s Rose,” Rose said.

“Then you can call me Wilf.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wearing down that stubborn Wilf. Reggie makes an appearance.

Shoes, and jacket off, the Doctor had Reggie loose on the hardwood. He was snuffling his way around their books. Rose was late getting home. She’d texted to let him know so he wasn’t worried. He had ordered in. Reggie’s friend had declined to be released from the Vivarium. The Doctor hadn’t wanted to traumatize a hedgehog so it was just him and Reggie.

There was a knock at the door. 

“Open,” he called out, hoping it wasn’t Jackie asking them to babysit. He hadn’t had a lot of alone time with Rose lately since Donna had been recreated(?). He had been hoping to spend a night with her doing all sorts of things he’d read in a new paranormal romance novel in an urban setting. He was sure he had the stamina for at least two sold chapters and Rose well she--

Donna walked in. The Doctor threw a bucket of cold water over his imagination and waved her in. “Help yourself to tea.”

“Thanks,” Donna said and walked into the kitchen. “I saw Granddad this morning. He almost let me stay for fifteen minutes this time. He tore up the check though.”

The Doctor scooped up Reggie before he could pee on anything. Depositing the little guy back into the tank, he turned to face Donna. “Shame about the check but that’s five minutes longer than last time. The plan is working. Did you get the reports for that Xanthian incident typed up, yet? I didn’t see you all day, so I assumed…”

Donna nodded, walking into the living room and handing him a mug of tea. He sipped it, “Blech, there’s no sugar in this!”

“You eat too much sugar. It’s why you’re annoying.”

“Why I’m annoying?” he raised his eyes heavenward, taking his mug back to the kitchen to add sugar, loads of it. “Why are you here?” he asked. “I mean, now, no, I mean how do I ask you why you’re here unannounced when I want a night alone with Rose and not be rude?”

Donna laughed. “I’m here to drop off the reports so you can go over them in the morning. I have a follow up with Dr. Harper to make sure I’m tip-top. I tried to cancel it but Pete insisted, so…”

The Doctor dropped onto the sofa and put his feet up. “Harper’s a letch. He made a pass at me.”

“Yeah, well,” she clicked her tongue, “I can handle him.”

“I’ll bet you can.” he agreed too easily and earned a glare.

“So, time for some freaky alien mind sex with Rose?” Donna asked, causing him to spit tea all down his Rolling Thrones shirt. She guffawed. 

Jumping up, he went into the kitchen to blot it before it stained. Rose had taken him to the reunion concert for the Rolling Thrones who were most definitely the Rolling Stones back home and they’d giggled about it all night. Carefully, he blotted it with some club soda that Rose kept for just this reason after the Jam Incident of last month. “Why must you always harp on it?”

Donna raised her hands into air quotes. “Because it is one freaky, two alien, and three makes your face go that lovely shade of tomato.”

“Tomato? Why tom-why not say red? I missed you,” the Doctor said accusingly, “I missed you so much that I basically resurrected you. And this, this is the thanks I get? I ask you, why? Why do I hate myself?”

“You’re a martyr, it’s in your blood. So, is that a yes then to the freaky alien mind sex? And why don’t you do both at the same time? Seems like double the…” Donna rambled on but the blood rushing in the Doctor’s ears blissfully drowned out whatever completely inappropriate thing she was saying. “So?” she finished. “Why not do all the deeds at once?”

The Doctor dragged his hand down his face in mortification. Rose had brought it up multiple times. It was only natural that she’d talk to Donna about it. They were becoming quite the team. Rose had been so excited for him to get his best friend back that she hadn’t realized how much she had been missing her best friend, Mickey. And Donna had adopted Rose as her gal pal and de facto partner in all things womanly. The upside was that the Doctor no longer had to do the girly things. The downside was that the Doctor still liked the girly things. He missed it and was sorely tempted to tell them but he could just see the look on Donna’s face.

She appeared at his side. “Hey, I am kidding. I’m jealous. I’d like my own freaky alien sex thing, well maybe just the freaky bit. Have I told you about Harry down in R&D? I think he fancies me.”

“Harry? He’s…” the Doctor couldn’t think of a single Harry who worked in R&D. “Who is he?”

“Tall, very dark and very handsome,” Donna replied. “He’s got muscles for days. Bet he could pick a girl up and carry her around. You’ve got noodle arms and legs. You are skinny as a rail…” Her eyes were glowing with humor.

“Oh, haha, Donna,” he grumbled as the bell rang. He got up and took the food from the delivery person. He tipped them and dropped the boxes back on the table. “And look for the ones with more brains than muscles… They’re more creative.”

“In bed?” Donna asked. “Those aren’t chips are they? Smells like grease. The potatoes here are rubbish.”

“I’m working on that. I’ve got Felicia down in agriculture growing some for me. I had a bag of russets in my left pocket.”

“Why?” 

“No idea,” he replied. “Reggie was in there too. I collect things.”

“Time Lords, are pack rats,” she murmured. She grabbed her purse and pulled the large file folder out of it, slapping it down on the table. “This took me all day to type up.”

“It’s going to take me five minutes to read through,” he said, haughtily.

“Freak,” she teased. “Oh and here, stole this for you.” She pulled a large piece of tech out of a purse that could not possibly have fit that tech. Oooh it looked like a harmonic converter. She handed it over. The weight of it in his hands was wonderful. Another piece of his Tardis sorted!

The Doctor drooled. “Where on Earth did you--?”

“While I was down in R&D, I spotted it in a pile of stuff headed for the incinerator. Thought you might need it,” Donna replied, grinning like the cat that ate the canary. “Don’t ask me why. I have no flippin’ idea what it does. But I saw it and I said, ‘Donna, that looks like a bit of Doctor tech I saw on the Tardis once’ and so I nicked it.”

“Oh, I love you,” he said to the harmonic converter.

“And me, you love me too,” Donna said. “Because I am brilliant.”

“You are brilliant,” he gushed. 

“And you love me, so you can answer my question. Why not both?” Donna asked.

“You’re like a dog with a bone,” he grumbled.

“I know!” She exclaimed. ”Do you think they have a Clom here? I love their soaps!”

“No more Clom sexcapades for you.”

Donna sighed and raised her brows.

“Fine. Both together activate certain genetic traits that lie dormant in most Time Lords,” he said, being as vague as possible while still answering her honestly. 

Her eyes gleamed. “Certain genetic traits such as?”

“Nope, no way, no Donna.” He felt his cheeks heat up.

“Hm,” Donna said. “Oh, alright. You’re no fun.”

The Doctor felt the bright presence that was Rose’s mind right before the door banged open. She was already talking before he could warn her they weren’t alone. “I saw that Urban Werewolf Romance you left out for me this morning! I bought the perfect pair of--Donna!” Rose dropped a discreet canvas shopping tote behind her, kicking it out of sight. “Hi,” she drawled, cheeks turning pink.

Donna barked out another laugh before standing up. “I’m going. I know when I’m not wanted. You two do whatever freaky alien sex things you like,” she said, grabbing her purse.

“Donna,” he admonished.

Donna beamed. “Have a great night!”

The Doctor hopped up to lock the door after her. “What did you buy? Was it something similar to what the heroine is wearing on page one hundred and thirty-seven?”

Rose kicked off her shoes and slipped her arms around him. “Well, you highlighted it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” The Doctor grabbed the tote, lifted her up into his arms, and raced her to the bedroom with Rose giggling the entire way.

Rose was late for work. The Doctor might be able to spend half the night acting out several acrobatic sex scenes but Rose was only human. He had left early, as usual, to work on the Tardis. They were going to meet for lunch and now Rose was going to have to skip lunch and eat at her desk. It had been worth it. She just hoped he had worn a tie or she was going to get some looks. Stepping into BigBen, she spotted her mother hurrying toward her. She had a large coffee in her hands. 

“Bless you,” Rose said, grabbing the coffee. She sipped it and sighed. Mum had made it all sugary and like a milkshake to mask the bitter taste of coffee. 

“Well, I saw the state of the Doctor, all perky with his hair like an electrified chicken, and took a guess when you were late. You are using protection, aren’t you Rose? I’m too young to be a grandmother. Especially since the two of you haven’t exactly put a date for your upcoming wedding. I’d be content with a shotgun wedding if there was a wedding. Bev’s niece married her bloke after six months. And I reckon you and the Doctor have been dating off and on for about three years now. That’s a long time to not make it official and don’t start with the ‘married in the way of his people’ nonsense. You’re an heiress, not an alien princess. Not that you couldn’t be an alien princess, mind, that ambassador from Thorus Alpha was fine, wasn’t he? All those pink feathers!” 

Rose had slurped down her delicious coffee by the time her mother stopped to take a breath. She was in her dress whites for the cantina and smiling brightly. “You and Pete too, heh?”

“What can I say? Love is in the air,” Jackie Tyler said with a laugh. “Now you best get to work. You’re an hour late as it is and Kate’s running a meeting on the new translators.”

“Shit, I was supposed to give that meeting,” Rose raced off. She snuck into the meeting to be met with smirks. “Damn it, why doesn’t he ever wear the ties,” she whispered in response to Jake’s snickering.

Donna met her in her office with lunch. “I’m one hundred percent,” Donna announced before unpacking the Chinese takeaway. “Dr. Harper, however, is about 85% after his hands wandered.”

Rose laughed darkly. “He’s so handsy. The little creep. Say the word and I’ll have Pete retcon him.” 

“No need. We have an understanding and he has a sprained thumb.” 

Rose cracked up. She was feeling incredibly lucky today. First the coffee, now lunch, what did she do to deserve it? “Wonderful! Couldn’t happen to a classier guy. Although the Doctor’s the only doctor I would trust with what we did…” Rose told her as she stabbed a potsticker with her fork. “Can’t exactly check soul swap on the list of surgeries, can we? Only a third of the people here know I’m from another dimension.

“Yeah, well, we can’t tell anyone here what actually happened. So, he can use that sonic of his to check my brains if he likes. I’ve the rest of the day free, so I’m going to try and convince my gramps to come see the flat at least. Get him to help pick colors for his room.” 

“Mum’s baking cookies. Take him some.” Rose opened a few more boxes to dump lo mein onto her plate and pile some broccoli on top. “Don’t make that face! Whatever the Doctor told you previously, Mum has gotten baking down. She’s still a bit rubbish at the entrees but she has Beth and Carl back there to make the meats and side dishes, so she’s really only serving food and baking. She made these brilliant muffins yesterday.”

Donna tilted her head, considering. “It can’t hurt.”

Donna’s sweaty hands were slippery. She fumbled the tin of biscuits a few times, swearing as she walked through the pensioner’s home. Wilf hadn’t been in his room. When she had asked at the desk, they said he was in the garden. Donna took her tin of tea biscuits. They had smelled alright. Her stomach was too nervous to try one. She spotted her grandad sitting on a bench enjoying a cigarette and reading a magazine. “Hiya Gramps.”

“Donna,” he called out and patted the space beside him. “I suppose you’re not going to give up on me, eh?”

Was she mistaken or was there a little twinkle in his blue eyes? Suspicious, she sat beside him. She placed the tin between them. “Brought you some biscuits. My friend, the one you met, well his almost mother-in-law Jackie, she baked them. Thought you might like some. Please don’t tear them to pieces and toss them on the ground like my check. I’d hate to tell her that no one ate her hard work.”

Wilf sniffed in what Donna hoped was amusement. “Alright, steady on there Donna. I’m not about to waste snacks, am I?” 

She turned to face him. “Nah, that’s not like you at all.”

“This isn’t like you at all, Donna,” Wilf retorted. “Not unless you were sweetening me up to get something.”

Donna looked out over the garden. It was mostly grass and a few manicured bushes. Dotted here and there were some tulips. Donna focused on a few bright red ones. “Yeah, well, it is now.”

“Hm, so new Donna, what do you think of this malarky that Pluto isn’t considered a planet anymore? How do you demote a planet? Seems mean,” he teased and showed her the article.

“It’s not got feelings,” Donna countered, pleased that he was showing her anything. “This says there might be another planet out there instead. So that’s good? Is Pluto a moon then?”

“Nah, it’s a dwarf planet,” he replied, flipping the page to show her a diagram. 

“Then it’s a planet?” 

They discussed the article for a few minutes before he moved on to a comet that was going by next week. Then Donna found herself explaining the ins and outs of her new job to him. A few times she caught a smile before he schooled his expression back to neutral. Donna opened the tin and he took a biscuit. Donna’s stomach settled down. He didn’t send her away. 

The bell rang for dinner. Donna frowned. “Oh, I guess I’m out of time.”

“You’ll come tomorrow then?” Granddad asked.

“Everyday until you like me again.” Donna closed the tin and handed it to him. 

He placed his hand over hers. “Oh sweetheart I do love you.”  
“Yeah, you have to. I’m family. What I want is for you to like me.” Donna gently pulled away from him. “I’d love for you to come to my new flat. See it. Think about living there. I can have the Doctor and Rose there. We can do a dinner?”

“Oh, Donna, I’m not sure…” Wilf began but she could see hesitation in his eyes. 

He wanted to believe in her. The man had been through a lot with his child and grandchildren. Donna doubled down. “Come on, the Doctor is actually a good cook. It keeps him from taking apart things and getting into trouble. And Rose she’s...normal. Sort of. Oh, say you’ll come? If nothing else, it’s a night out. I’ll get us a few pints… Everything will be full fat. And dessert. I’ll make a cake. You love a chocolate cake. Say yes.”

“You do wear a man down, Donna,” he said with an amused resignation. “Alright, I surrender. Make me a fancy dinner in your fancy flat with your new fancy friends.”

“You won’t regret it.”

“I better not.” Wilf stepped forward and enveloped Donna in a warm hug. Donna’s eyes prickled. She bit back the tears. “You won’t.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The comments on the previous story are the reason this one exists. And the comments on this one are lovely. Thanks for reading!


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Awkward conversations and prep for the dinner party in this one.

“You can do it?” Donna asked with her wide dark blue eyes.

The Doctor puffed out a breath. They were in BigBen behind the clock. The Doctor’s lab was supposed to be a cool sanctuary but right now he was feeling a bit hot. Through gritted teeth, he replied, “I don’t know, Donna. It’s so…” Domestic? Terrifying? “Awkward, really. He doesn’t know me at all. Won’t Rose and I being there make it more complicated?”

Reaching into the substrate he pulled out the thermometer. “She’s growing well but the substrate is running hot. Why is it running hot? I suppose she could be putting down roots. Do you think she needs a fan? Or perhaps some calcium to help her grow? I’m flummoxed. I’ve never done this before, growing a Tardis. S’lot like a houseplant if your houseplant was multidimensional and sentient. Rose would be fine, she’s charming and good with people. Me, I used to be good with people. Regular old Prime universe people seemed to like me just fine but here it’s all, ‘stop licking things and stop smashing our deadly ray guns!’ Only you and the Tylers like me. Jake tolerates me and that woman in R&D with the hat.”

Donna knelt down and touched the substrate. “It is warm. Why not ask her what she needs since she’s a thinking houseplant? And people like you. They’re just afraid you’re going to catch them building ray guns. Or catch that temper of yours…”   
The Doctor imagined growing through the substrate like unfurling roots. He sent the experience to the Tardis for feedback. She was ambivalent. He imagined adding calcium and she responded with a little hum. “She seems fine. She says calcium would be lovely but unnecessary. I think she just likes the taste. My temper isn’t as…” He glanced at Donna’s face and sighed in defeat. “Right,” he drawled scratching at his cheek in contemplation, “I did terrorize Kate’s new translator team, didn’t I? Proves my point. I am a loose cannon.”

Donna touched the Tardis coral. “She seems a lovely nice warm pinkish color. And you’re a great cook. You made me so many crazy alien meals that were alright. You make a great roast chicken and you’re a wizard with julienning things. I burn water. You need to help me out. I’m your friend. Friends help friends.”

Rocking back so he fell out of a squat and landed on his bum, he glanced up at the coral. She hummed a little song of agreement. She was getting livelier now. She had some trouble establishing at first. Rose had suggested talking to her and playing her music. It had helped! Now she was grown up enough to be tossing her two cents in. “Fine. We are free.”

Donna patted the coral. “All of the girls are sticking together.”

“Might be nice to have Wilf around. Or maybe I should spend more time with Pete and Tony…” the Doctor grumbled.

“Oh, you love it,” Donna walked over to the small desk in the corner and sorted his notes into neat piles. “Some of these are on gum wrappers,” she shouted. “How am I supposed to work with this? Get a notebook.” 

“I numbered them.”

Rose was in the dress shop with her mum. Jackie had decided that all of Rose’s work clothing was boring as sin and she needed a nice outfit for dinner tonight at Donna’s. “You’re not even going,” Rose reiterated when her mother held up the fifth cocktail dress.

“I know, sweetheart, I just want everything to go right for Donna. She’s been down the cantina every day pouring her heart out about how thin her grandad is. And God help me, but I miss your gran. So, I’m invested now. And besides, if we see a nice wedding gown while we’re out, we can snap it up. Then if Mr. Nibbs ever gets you a ring, we’ll be ready,” Jackie slapped dresses from one side of the rack to the other. “These are all so bland. Honestly,” she said raising her voice, “you’d think a place that charges four hundred quid for a cocktail party would have heard of color.”

Rose rolled her eyes. “Stop terrorizing the staff. It’s not even formal. I like this one.” The pink dress reminded her of the poodle skirt she’d worn when they were supposed to see Elvis. Of course, this dress was lacey and shorter. “Pick one you like for me and I’ll try them on. I don’t want to be late and I need time to shower after work. That last meeting had me covered in stress sweat. I hate budget meetings. Pete was no help. He was playing games on his phone.”

Jackie tsked. “You can thank your brother for that. He installed some bunny game that your father can’t get enough of. He’s too old to become a gamer! Oh, this one Rose! If you like it, you can wear one tonight and one to Bev’s party.”

Rose slipped into the dressing room with the pink dress and a dark blue silk number with embroidered lighter blue flowers. The pink one was perfect. The blue was also perfect! Rose did a little twirl as a white dress was tossed over the top. “Jackie Tyler, no wedding gowns!”

“It’s not a wedding gown! I wish it were. All my friends’ daughters are getting married. We’re going to have three to attend just this summer.” 

Sighing, she tried on the white gown. It hugged her like a second skin showing off all of her assets tastefully. Rose did a few turns in it. The skirt flared. She lifted it. “Hm, I love it Mum, but it’s a no.”

“Why?”

“Can’t run in it,” she said, opening the door to demonstrate. “See if they have one with a slit up to midcalf.” 

Donna paced. The Doctor had agreed to make dinner. She was dressed in a long cotton jersey dress to keep cool. She was going to pick up her granddad in a few minutes. The flat wasn’t spotless. Donna had been to keyed up to clean. Her living space was open with a comfortable recliner for Grandad and gray sectional for her to curl up on and read. The hardwood floors were a bit dusty but okay. She’d painted the room an ocean blue that she now was second-guessing. It might be too feminine for him. 

“Relax, the flat looks great. Love the colors,” the Doctor commented. He was dicing up vegetables. The chicken was already in. He had dressed down a bit for cooking. He had looped a ‘Kiss the Cook’ apron on over his rock band tee. “This chicken is going to be perfect.”

“Hopefully, Rose will turn up soon,” Donna said, pausing in her pacing. “You don’t think she’s changed her mind?”

The Doctor flipped his knife, easily catching it before starting in on the potatoes. “Nah, Jackie’s been after her to buy more dresses. Your dinner party would have been like tossing a zebra to the lions for my mother in law...almost mother in law? Shame, I love a little shop and seeing Rose in new dresses. I like to pick the shoes...”

“Ha!” Donna pointed a finger at him. “You did retain my love of shoes! Bet you still love a manicure and a hot bath and gossip magazines!”

Her friend blanched. “I, that is to say, erm,” his voice pitched upwards, “enjoy a good natter on about the celebs… And who doesn’t like a bubble bath? It’s relaxing and manly.” He bowed his head suddenly, extremely interested in chopping. 

Donna laughed. “Right, and how do you feel about handbags?”

“It’s an investment, innit?” He dropped the knife. “Shut up. Shut up right now or I will go home.”

“Rose is a lucky woman,” she said gently, covering her mouth. It wasn’t fair to laugh at him for the traits he’d gotten from her. They were an improvement! His happiness was also an improvement. Her best mate had tended to be maudlin without Rose. She felt a pang of sadness for the other Doctor out there on his own without Rose, without Donna.

He smirked, arched his brows, and went back to prepping dinner. “Stop stalling by terrorizing me and go get Wilf. My chicken will be done in an hour and a half. I’m not wasting all this time for it to go dry. Your nerves could ruin dinner, just so you know.” Pointing the knife at her, he winked.

Puffing out a breath, Donna grabbed his keys. “I’m taking your car. No arguing.”

“Don’t hit any of the extra buttons.” 

“Extra buttons?” Donna grabbed up her purse and headed for the door. “Bet you put in a biscuit dispenser or something barmy.”

“I may have---nope, ignore all of the special buttons. Don’t scratch my car.”

Donna scoffed. “You’re almost father in law is richer than God. You can get him to front you some rubies or diamonds to trade for wax. I’m off.”

“Donna,” he sang out and she paused. “Everything is going to be fine.”

“Yeah.” They beamed at one another.

The Doctor had the meat thermometer inserted because according to the women, he was not allowed to poison anyone. The flat was lovely. He liked all the blues Donna had added to the space. The hardwood floors were a medium oak versus the dark they had at home. The view of the river was fantastic from the balcony. He’d nipped into her room to snoop while the food baked, and drooled over the enormous sleigh bed. He’d bought and had that delivered as he had for all four flats when he was wooing Rose but she had made it her own. A lovely woodland painting hung above it. Donna had added a lovely long bureau, a full-length mirror, and the closet was already filled to the brim with shoe and hat boxes. She’d also gathered her things from the friend’s house she had been staying and sorted it into stuff that was and wasn’t her. 

Several photos and nick-nacks that he’d never seen before had tastefully littered the place. The overall result was homey. It reminded him forcibly of her room on the Tardis. The second room had a lovely large mission bed in cherry, a comfortable matching nightstand and bureau as well as a large steamer trunk. The Doctor pulled a large rather heavy present out of his trouser pocket and placed it onto the bed. The Doctor had had a hell of a time sourcing dimensional displacement tech on Earth but he’d managed to do some of his trouser pockets, one of Rose’s jackets and their travel cases. Pockets were useful! Patting the present, he wandered into the loo. 

The lack of a soaking tub reminded him why he’d chosen the other flat. In black and white, the bathroom resembled a New York subway. While poking about in her cosmetics drawer, silently judging her lip glosses, he heard the door open. He shut the door and skittered out just in case Donna had forgotten how to drive...again. 

A warm glow filled him. Rose was here.

“Stop snooping,” she shouted as she rustled around in the living room.

He was drawn to her as ever like a lovely little Time Lord moth to a Bad Wolf flame. Catching a glimpse of her, his mouth went dry and all the moisture seemed to pool in the center of his palms. Scrubbing his rubbishy human reaction on his trousers, he kept his eyes on her. “You look...lovely.”

“Pink and yellow,” Rose commented. “Mum thinks my clothing is too boring for fun occasions. Normally, I’d argue but this is sort of… flirty.” She did a little turn. 

“Please stop doing that.”

Rose stopped. “Why?”

“Because we’re not at home,” he remarked, drifting close enough to kiss her. Rose giggled against his lips. “Still, I’m incredibly rude and we have at least fifteen minutes.”

Rose shoved him off. “Down boy. Something smells good in here.”

He resisted the urge to say it was her, all freshly shampooed and smelling of natural soaps. She saw it on his face and patted his chest. He caught her hand. “Are you sure? I know maybe the stripping off our clothes and rolling around on that incredibly soft area rug would be unseemly but I could just…” He reached a hand up to draw a hand down her temple. Rose’s shiver told him she wasn’t opposed to it.

The little wrinkle appeared between her brows. The Doctor arched his in response. She bit her lip. He backed down, waiting for her next move. “Why can’t we do both again?”

Hissing, out a breath he left her there as the timer went off for the chicken. “Time to turn the chicken.”

She followed him. Her hand ran down his back. He spun the chicken, closed the oven, and turned to face her. “Donna’s been at you.”

“No, well, yes. I like our sex lives. I thought you would eventually get around to telling me. You haven’t.” Rose let him hold on to her. 

He was distracted by her assets for a moment. She pinched him. He frowned. “It’s not a conversation appropriate for dinner.”

“I’ve spoiled the mood.”

He pulled her in closer. “Oh, that mood is never spoiled. Not with you. It’s a Time Lord thing… Look, do you want children?”

“Doctor, why are you changing the subject?” Rose pulled away from him to taste one of his sauces.

“I’m not.” How did you explain a bit of spikey alien sexuality to a human? Rose wasn’t any human and she was more aware of his nature than any previous friends he’d had but Gallifreyans were a very strange race from their point of view. “When I could regenerate, I could have become any size, shape, color, gender, or exterior form but on the inside, I’d still be Gallifreyan.”

Rose was listening. He turned away from her open posture. Sex talk was still icky for his people. Radiating discomfort, he leaned against the sink. Her hand dropped over his. “We can talk about it later at home.”

“No, it’s, sorry, my people were prudes. If we do what you want to do it will trigger several genetic changes within me. Some would have happened to any old Time Lord who would be stupid or brave enough to form a bond, like possessiveness, a susceptibleness to your pheromones...other things. But I’m not just a Time Lord, I’m the last one...well, part of the last one anyhow and that involves the curse of Pythia...it might not hold true anymore and I’d erm, be sort of single-minded about getting…” He stopped. A thousand years of suppression of sexual matters rose up to choke him. “I am…”

Rose wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. 

“Rose, I’ve told you before my people were mostly asexual. We’re also sterile.”

Rose spun him around. “So why ask if we can have children? We can’t. We can always adopt.”

“Well,” he drawled, “I might not be. I might be. One way to find out for sure would be to do both of those things at once. I’d be obsessed with it. And If I were sterile, I might have to spend a year building a loom. And if that didn’t work, I’d have to find another way...and so on. I’d rather one know that you want children before we did that. Two know that I was or wasn’t sterile and have a loom waiting… or C not risk the madness, honestly.” 

Rose was quiet. Oh, he hated when she was quiet! “You did fall in love with an alien,” he reminded her.

“Your people were weird,” she remarked. 

“Yes,” he gasped, laughing. 

“So, we’ll wait on that. I’m not ready to have kids. I just wish you’d told me. I’m on birth control.” Rose made a face.

“I can’t be sure of anything in my hybrid body without further testing.” He shrugged.

“Mum and I bought a wedding dress today.” She made a face.

Hm. “Can you run in it?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have to work today, so writing early in the morning so I feel accomplished. Enjoy this silliness. Let me know what you think.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dinner doesn't go as planned.

“Are you sure we’re in the right building, sweetheart?” Wilf got out of the car nervously. 

“Of course! You think I wouldn’t know my own car park? I told you, it’s a great job. And this flat is one of the fringe benefits. The Doctor’s renting it to us for a song. He’s very naive about money and Rose Tyler is loaded. I’ve told him the market value. He doesn’t care.” Donna led him to the lift. She had squawked about the cheapness of the rent for a second and the Doctor had laughed and said, “As if I’d let my best friend live in a shoebox. Besides, Rose is rich. I don’t need money.” Silly alien! He’d spent centuries swanning off and leaving the bills unpaid. 

“Are you sure you don’t work for the mob?” Wilf stepped inside the lift brushing imaginary dust off his red jumper. It was fairly clean but well worn and his trousers were a nice charcoal pair with the creases still in them. His shoes were worn. She’d buy him new ones if he’d let her.

Donna pushed the button for the top floor. “So what if I did? I can handle it. But I don’t. I mostly do paperwork and put up with the Doctor. Only Rose and I can stomach him, the useless ali-man.” Donna grimaced at her slip. 

“He seemed alright. What’s their problem with him?” Wilf asked as the lift opened up into a small foyer. “He’s a bit squirrely and his hair is a bit sticky-uppy but he’s family to you and he’s even let you a posh flat. He can’t be all bad, can he? Is he dangerous?” His blue eyes were concerned.

“Only to toasters, and himself,” Donna said, then caught his frown. “He’s not dangerous. Not to me or Rose or anyone really except for bureaucrats. He drives them mental with his reports. He wrote the last four days' notes on the back of a ripped open package of dried pasta. Honestly, why does the man never have a notebook? He always says, ‘I numbered them for you Donna!’ as if that helps when I have a rubbish tip on my desk. Here we are.” Donna pulled open her Tardis blue door and shouted, “You better not be up to anything funny in my flat.”

Rose laughed exiting the kitchen with a stack of plates and silverware. “Hi, Donna.”

“My stars, that’s a lovely dress!” Wilf stepped forward to kiss Rose’s hand.

“Easy,” the Doctor called out, appearing with a salad bowl and tongs. He pointed with the tongs. “That one is spoken for…”

“Talk about her that way and she won’t be,” Rose sang out. “Hello. I’m Rose Tyler.”

“Wilfred Mott,” Gramps said with amusement. “Why are you with such a skinny tall gangly thing like him when you could have a veteran like myself?” 

“Oh my God, do not answer that, Rose Tyler. And you, tour, now.” Donna led her grandad through the open space. He made appreciative noises. She showed him her room.

“Now that is a bed!” Wild exclaimed, going over to test the mattress. “Three of four could lay in here and never touch. Soft too! And the view!” He spun to look out over the river. 

“Yeah well your room has the same view if you want it,” she tempted.

“Yeah, well, let’s not count our chickens,” he muttered, expression souring.

Nice work Donna. She could kick herself later. Now, she plastered on a smile and showed him the giant shower. He whistled. “Cor, how do you get clean? It’s a mile from the soap to the showerhead!”

“It’s got showerheads in the walls so it’s like being caught out in a summer rain,” she confided.

He grinned. “Alright, show me this room you want to pop me into. Is it under the stairs?”

“No, you’re not an orphan. Come on this way.” Donna led him into the bedroom she hoped he’d want. It was twice the size of his room now. It was rather bare. “I didn’t paint it in case you wanted to pick your own colors.”

“Will you look at my bed! It’s as big as yours! That’s real wood, isn’t it?” He touched the headboard and pushed a hand against the thick mattress. “S’expensive mattress. There’s that view! What’s this?”

There was a large blue box with a maroon bow. “Oh, that’s from me and Donna,” the Doctor said leaning into the doorjamb. “Housewarming if you want. Or not. No pressure. Salad course in a minute. Wine or beer, Wilf?”

“A pint, son, thanks,” Wilf said, eying the bow.

He didn’t notice the effect on the Doctor when he called the old alien son. The Doctor’s brown eyes were a bit misty and his smile was wistful. Donna grinned at him and the Doctor dropped the expression into eager anticipation. “Go on, open it.”

“You’re all buttering me up,” Gramps complained as he pulled the ribbon and the bow fell apart. Lifting the lid, he stared. “Oh, this is beautiful! I can’t possibly accept this! It’s too much.”

“It’s really not, my fiance is very rich,” the Doctor said. “If we don’t buy our friends extravagant gifts, her mother will waste it all on a posh wedding. Besides, I’m interested in the stars. You could show me around the galaxy. You’d be doing me a favor. It’s the highest-powered one I could find in brass and wood.” The Doctor tugged on his ear. “Please don’t make me take it back. I swear I’ll end up with an ice sculpture of a swan at my wedding surrounded by caviar.” The Doctor made a distressed sound.

“What’s wrong with caviar?” Donna asked.

The Doctor made a face. “It’s fish eggs on crackers. I’d rather eat a vortisaur. And I’d never have eaten Ramsay.”

Wilf touched the brass and glanced out the window. The Doctor had done the same perception field to this building. He’d explained it to her on day one. She hadn’t been paying attention. She was too distracted by the space and paint chips. He turned away from the present and the view. “How’s about that beer?”

“Yes sir,” the Doctor disappeared.

“You were in a car crash,” Gramps stated.

“Yeah.” Donna didn’t know what to do with her hands, so she crossed her arms.

“You alright now?” 

“Yeah, better than alright. Everything in my life is slotting into place.”

Her grandad nodded, patted her arm, and walked out of the room. Donna didn’t know what to make of it or him.

Rose set the table, opened a bottle of white, and set it in a bucket of ice while the Doctor nervously flitted around. He had chilled a few pint glasses in anticipation of Wilf wanting a beer and was now pouring the man a pint. She caught him with the ginger beer before he’d had a sip. “Are you sure you want to get silly drunk in front of Wilf?”

He took a swig. “Yes. Domestic things are nerve-wracking.”

“Says the alien who cooked an entire meal like a perfect fifties housewife.” Rose folded paper napkins and placed them under the silverware.

“Rose Tyler, first off, it’s not the same thing at all. And second, not a single thing here is made in or near a gelatin mold. Imagine if I’d made a shrimp jello mold? Hm? No, I made a lovely chicken. I should have made jello for dessert!” He smacked his forehead. “That would have won him over, easy.”

“You’re insane. And Donna has a big chocolate cake on the counter or did you miss that with your superior eyesight?”

“I convinced myself it wasn’t there, so I wouldn’t be tempted to swipe some frosting.”

He flittered past her and stole a kiss, pointing to his apron as his excuse. Wilf reappeared. Donna reappeared a few seconds later looking pensive. He caught her eye and she waved him off. The Doctor pulled out his chair and sat down, divesting himself of the apron and chucking it toward the kitchen. 

“What’s for dinner, I’m starved!” Wilf took a swig of his beer.

“We’re starting simple with a Ceasar salad which was named after a fellow named Ceasar and not the Roman Emperor contrary to popular belief. Nice fellow. Great dressing. After that, it’s a short intermission for drinks and then the chicken. Sorry, no time for a soup or nibbles. Donna didn’t give me a lot of notice…” Wittering on nervously, the Doctor went around the table shaving fresh parmesan onto the salads while Donna made approving sounds.

“I’m sure it will be just fine, son.” Wilf took an appreciative sip of his beer, smiling in appreciation. “This tastes like the stuff they used to make before the war.”

The Doctor smirked. Rose shook her head. He must have found the beer on one of his wanders around London. The Doctor was always hunting for unique offerings. He’d brought home several bottles of a fruity wine one night from a woman named Serena who grew her own grapes. Rose had bought him a few more balls of wool and insisted he knit a thank you. He had made an elaborate shawl and come back with even more bottles. And he also knew the man downstairs who made his own fudge to Rose’s dismay it was delicious. The beer was probably made by a woman known only as Brienne who lived in a strange cellar or something like that if not a creature from the planet Brienne. 

She caught his eye. He tilted his head toward the wine. Rose took the hint. She poured wine for Donna and herself. The Doctor’s glass was filled with a hint of ginger beer and club soda. Looked like she would be driving them home later. His Time Lord metabolism allowed him for better control of the ginger but he still got a bit silly. Metabolizing alcohol was a snap for him separately but f he combined them, he’d be comatose tomorrow.

Wilf chowed down on the salad, asking for extra cheese. Donna picked at her food, too full of nerves to enjoy the salad. Rose was delighted. The dressing tasted right! It had always been a bit heavier here and…

“What did you say this salad was called again? This dressing is good!” Wilf held up a crouton and popped it into his mouth.

They didn’t have Caesar Salad here. Rose bit her lip. It was different here with the heavier dressing and always had thick cuts of tomato in it more like a garden salad. She glanced up and caught the Doctor frowning. He hadn’t been in this universe long enough to catalog all the differences. Rose kicked herself. She should have checked the menu for that. “The Doctor experiments a lot in the kitchen. It’s based on a garden salad.”

“Is it?” the Doctor asked, voice pitching up as realization dawned. “I do,” he agreed. “Love a food experiment, me.”

The salad course over, the Doctor disappeared into the kitchen to check on the good. He was humming, ‘Castles’ from Freya someone? A song he liked to sing when he was in a particularly good mood and also a song from about 5-7 years in their future in another universe. Rose sighed. Bad enough he was always singing the old lyrics from the old universe to popular songs, now he was inventing them. Rose wanted to pinch him or maybe his bum.

“So, Rose, my granddaughter assures me you aren’t in the mob,” Wilf said. 

Rose barked out a laugh. “We’re not in the mob. We’re in research & development. And there’s a fair amount of diplomacy. Donna works with the Doctor. I’m sure she’s mentioned my fiance’s inability to take proper notes?”

“Oh for-- I numbered them!” The Doctor reappeared with another beer for Wilf. 

Wilf thanked him. Donna lifted her brows as the Doctor offered her a drink from a pitcher. Donna polished off her wine and held out her glass. Rose did the same and held out her glass. The pink liquid. Rose sipped it. “This is strong!”

“It’s a Pink Lady!” Donna exclaimed. “They’re meant to be strong.”

“Nothing wrong with a little social lubrication,” the Doctor said, playing around with pronunciation or succumbing to ginger beer on nearly empty stomachs. “So, Wilf, what do you think of the place?”

“Posh,” Wilf commented. “My Donna always did want to live in a fancy flat in London. I hear it’s yours.”

“Yep.” The Doctor smiled brightly. 

“He was trying to convince me to leave the mansion and move in with him,” Rose said. “He didn’t like living with my mother.” 

“I’d have bought a few houses myself back in the day to get away from my mother in law as well,” Wilf said, laughing and playfully slapping the Doctor on the back. The Doctor beamed.

The conversation flowed around her. Wilf and Donna talked in a stilted way that smoothed out as the drinks kept flowing. Rose could hear the Doctor moving around inside the kitchen, cooking or frying until the timer went off. The Doctor carved the chicken, placed the platter on the table, and reappeared with roasted root vegetables and a plate of homemade chips. Rose frowned. Those things were liars. They smelled lovely, and looked lovely, all golden and brown but their insides would be a silty, gritty mess. The Doctor winked. “Try the chips, Rose.”

Donna had popped one into her mouth. “Good, they taste fine, same as always,” she said, filling her plate with veggies and chicken and passing to her grandfather.

Same as always? Rose reached out and pinched one. Popping it into her mouth, she moaned. “Oh, my God! How? This is gorgeous! You better have a bottle of vinegar.”

He plunked it down on the table. Rose dove for it. A giggle escaped him as he filled his own plate. Wilf reached out and grabbed a chip. Taking a bite he frowned. “This is potato? It’s good! Never liked it before…”

“Secret family recipe,” the Doctor said. His glass was empty and his cheeks were a bit flushed. He piled food onto his plate, tweaking pieces of chicken with his fingers. “I started a new strain of potatoes when I moved here.”  
“Where did you live before here?”

“Eh, everywhere,” the Doctor answered and held his hand out for the vinegar that Rose was still applying to her plate of chips. “I’d consider London home, but I haven’t been settled anywhere else long enough to say it’s where I’m from.”

“Where were you born?” Wilf asked.

“Norway?” he asked Rose scratching at his face.

“Uh oh, he never did read his bio. Rose rolled her eyes. “Ignore him. He was born in England. He moved to Scotland for a bit and then traveled. We met on one of his trips.” Rose said, quoting the dossier he had clearly never read. 

“I did? I did.” 

Wilf’s eyes narrowed. The Doctor made a face. Dinner continued. Rose sighed. He was going to have to memorize his fake details sooner or later if he wanted to expand his friend group. The Doctor didn’t notice how fake he sounded now as he added more vinegar to his own chips. “These would be so much better if I put them in newspaper first.”

Donna’s body was forcibly relaxed by the gin in her second Pink Lady. Her grandfather was scarfing down chicken and grilling everyone. Rose was neatly deflecting. Donna had her archived memories to draw from but the Doctor was answering honestly. He hadn’t had a single thing to drink but the color in his cheeks and the brightness of his eyes let her know that he was feeling no pain. He’d never been drunk around her before. Was this from the being part human bit? Or was he getting alien drunk? She was going to slap him if he ruined this for her. 

No, she wasn’t. Donna glanced down at the dinner. He’d worked hard tonight for her on something that made him incredibly uncomfortable: A Family Dinner. She let her frustration out with a breath. She needed to stop putting so much pressure on the situation. Gramps was having a good time. He had his second plate of chicken and his third beer. He was telling them all about needing a new cardgame since the one he was in was full of cheats. He also talked about the staff never remembering his name.

Donna’s heart clenched. She needed him to be enjoying a better life. She owed it to the memory of her original grandfather. She hoped he was alright now that she was back to who she’d been before meeting the Doctor. He’d smiled more tonight than she’d seen him do in the last several visits. But every few minutes he would frown. She hoped those frowns didn’t mean no.

Wilf finished his plate and pushed it away. “Doctor, that was an excellent meal! I’m stuffed full!”

“Aw, thanks, Wilf.” The Doctor beamed at Rose.

“It’s a shame,” Wilf said.

“What’s a shame, Gramps?” 

Wilf looked around the table. “It’s a shame that you’re not my granddaughter. I don’t know who you are but you ain’t her. You look like her. You even sound similar to her but no. I know my granddaughter. And I’m sorry, sweetheart but you’re not her.”

“No, I am. I’m Donna.” Donna was tempted to chug her drink for courage as an icy feeling slipped down her spine. “Gramps--”

He pointed. “See! That there. You never called me ‘gramps.’ You call me grandad. And you hate gin. And that’s not all, you move differently and I hate to say this but you, my dear, are kind. My Donna isn’t. She isn’t. God help me, she’s selfish. And I wanted to believe Rose’s explanation that it was caused by your accident...”

Rose sighed. “I was trying to help!”

“Who asked you too?” Donna growled. “I was handling it. Gramps-Grandad, I am Donna. I promise. I’m Donna. Nothing weird is going on here.”

“Then explain to me how that one is drunk? He’s been drinking watered-down ginger beer. And he’s talking about salads that I’ve never heard of-it was lovely thanks-and after we met the other day,” he said to Rose, “I researched you too. You appeared out of nowhere. Four years later your fiance appears out of nowhere… And that view outside Donna’s bedroom is impossible! The light pollution in London doesn’t allow you to see the bands of the Milky Way and I could see the colors in it. So who the hell are you? Aliens?”

Donna dropped her silverware.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my Google Doc got bogged down because this series is now over 200 pages. I've had to open a second one. I doubt this is the last story in this series since I love this little world and I think I probably have to get to their wedding, right? Anyway, I love writing Wilf. I think he would catch on. He's a smarty.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The truth comes out.

The Doctor was drunk. Initially, this had been A Very Good Thing enabling him to deal with the stress of being in an Incredibly Human Situation while not being incredibly human himself. And while over the centuries he had adapted to their little ways, he wasn’t one of them. Sure, he had a fresh infusion of humanity from the meta crisis but not enough to know what to do in this situation. Not because he wasn’t brilliant, no, no, no, because he was pissed. And there were two of all of them. That was too many humans to sort out! He could barely handle Jackie.

The silence was broken when he pushed his chair back, standing up and shuffling off to get the cake. As if the squeak of his chair was a starter pistol, the humans behind him burst into noise. He grabbed the cake plates, the cake shovel, some extra forks, and another bottle of gingerbeer as Rose announced, “We’re not aliens.”

Oh good! Rose was going to handle the domestics, brilliant! She had a knack for it. He returned to the table. Donna caught his eye and mouthed, “what the hell are you doing?” He held up the cake shovel and mimed cutting the cake. She glared with the intensity of the twin sons of Kepler-16b. Puffing out a breath he sank down into his chair. Before he could open the ginger beer, Rose held out her hand for it. He handed it over. At this rate, he was soon going to be depressingly sober for this. With his metabolism...he had three minutes of blissful drunkenness left as long as he didn’t mix alcohol with it.

“Where’s my Donna?” Wilf asked. “You got her in a cupboard somewhere? She won’t like that. Let me tell you, I once locked her in her room for biting and she chewed her way out.” Wilf glanced around as if he could spot a Donna who was capable of chewing through wood. Oh, the Doctor hated this part! “Donna!” he called out, half standing up.

Resigned, Donna said softly, “I’m right here. There’s no other Donna.”

“No, you’re not. I may be old but I’m not daft. And I tell you, you’re not her. I’ll give it to you, you put on a nice performance wanting to win me over and sending your pretty friend there to snow me with a sad story about a car crash. But I’ve had enough now. I want my granddaughter. I won’t tell anyone about your invasion plans or whatever. You seem like nice aliens… As long as you give her back to me. I grant you, she’s not the nicest girl but she’s mine and I’ll have her back now, thanks.” Wilf said, crossing his arms. 

“I’m sorry but that’s not possible,” Rose said radiating sympathy. Donna was stricken. Big tears leaked out of her eyes. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have done this,” the Doctor hissed. “We could have waited. A few years and we would have been able to…”

“She’d still be dead,” Rose blurted out, eyes darting to Donna and Wilf.

“What?” Wilf half stood. “Who’s dead?”

Donna banged the table. “NO ONE IS DEAD!”

“No, but his Donna…” Rose protested.

“IS ME.” Donna pointed at herself. “Gramps, I am Donna. I didn’t eat through the door. I used a screwdriver to knock the pins out of the hinges. I told you that so you wouldn’t do it again. I have all of those memories. I know everything about you and me. And I AM BETTER.” Donna pounded the table again and the Doctor made a face. Her eyes were twin fires.

Wilf glared right back. “You’re a Donna Noble alright, I can tell from that temper. But you’re not her. You can’t be her at all.”

“WHY?” Donna demanded.

“You’ve never been this nice to me in your life. You’ve told me to go rot when you don’t get your way. Both of you and my daughter, none of you give a toss about me.” Wilf crossed his arms.

The Doctor’s single heart hurt. He wanted to hug each one of them. He sniffed. It might be the ginger speaking but this was so sad. This brave man living in Pete’s World all by his lonesome was upset and pining for a granddaughter that didn’t even like him. “Wilf, she’s from another world, a parallel world. We all are. That’s why Rose Tyler didn’t exist until a few years ago. That’s why I didn’t exist last year except for in a little piece of footage from the Cybermen Incident… Your granddaughter was in an accident. She…”

“No…”

“She didn’t make it.” 

“No, you’re lying!” Wilf half sat, half fell back into his chair. “You said she was only a bit banged up,” he accused Rose.

Rose let out a sigh. “I wish I were. My dad and I got to the street in time to see her on the ground. She was only knocked over. She shouldn’t have died. Her body was fine, banged up but fine but her soul… She was brain dead. I’m so sorry, Wilf. There was nothing we could do for her.”

Wilf covered his face with his hands and wept openly. The Doctor couldn’t take it anymore. He walked over and knelt down between Donna and Wilf. He was a bit wobbly. “This isn’t doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Everything that Donna was is preserved in our Donna. You heard her, she has the memories in there. If she’d survived, your Donna might have had a completely different personality from the head injury. It happens. This is a gift to you both. Donna’s family is trapped in another universe, another dimension. She can never see them again.”

Wilf lowered her hands. “Is that right?”

Donna nodded. “They won’t even miss me.”

“That can’t be true,” Wilf protested. “I miss my Donna…”

Donna nodded. “I’ll take you home.”

“Oh,” the Doctor stood up abruptly. “Well, we should probably, erm, erase his memory.”

Wilf pushed away from the table. “What!”

Wilf and Donna wore identical angry scowls. 

“Well,” he drawled, “we can’t let you go around telling people we’re from a parallel world. That’s privileged information. You need loads of top-level security clearances. Not even my coworkers know what you know. Besides, it’s a mercy for you, Wilf. Eh, you won’t remember your Donna is… different. You can go back to your life. I’ll do it…I can do it painlessly.” He reached out and Donna slapped him away. 

“I’m not having any of that,” Donna shouted, bristling like a cat.

“Ow! I was trying to help! Rose’s retcon makes people nauseous for days…” he explained, “Besides, then we could try again in a few days. Oooh, and Donna could be meaner so he’d like her more.” He hopped about a bit, pointing at Wilf, “Wilf, you could even tell us what we did wrong so we get it right!” Enthusiastic, he next pointed at Rose. “Rose will take notes. I can make a ham instead and gritty potatoes. They do spiral roasts here right?” Rose nodded, smirking. “I won’t get drunk! Rose will wear that dress again. We can make it perfect!” 

Everyone stared at him. “What? What? If we don’t get it right then, we could always try again and again...and...well, maybe not again because if Wilf forgets too many days in a row, they’ll think he has dementia. Nurses in those places think everything is dementia. But we’ll get a good four tries before then so… what do you say?”

Even though he knew the slap was coming, it still hurt. Donna rocked his head back. The force of the slap plus the rage behind it was a double whammy on his poor hybrid system. He crashed to the ground. Rose moved to help him and he waved her off.

“Stop!” Wilf reached out a hand to help the Doctor up. “I’m not about to tell anyone your secrets. The Doctor’s right about them nurses thinking I’m addled. Who’d believe me anyhow? Your secrets are safe with me. No need to erase anything. I’m not talking.”

“Don’t worry about him, Gran-Wilf, I’d never let him do it to you. And he wouldn’t if I asked him not to,” Donna said and caught his eye. “I understand that this is very strange. I just wanted to give you a better life. C’mon,” Donna grabbed her purse.

The pair left together.

“You are mental to suggest retconning her grandad.” Rose handed him a bag of frozen peas. “Think that little bit of emotional manipulation is going to work?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I wanted him to see how much she cares. If I have to take a slap for it, I don’t care. It’s for Donna. I owe her.”

“You’re very sweet sometimes.”

“You’re trying very hard not to say stupid and want you to know I heard you and I appreciate your insights.” The Doctor said, groaning “I’m going to have a perfect imprint of her hand on my face for days.

Donna kept her hands on the wheel and concentrated on keeping her emotions in check. She was failing miserably as frustrated, angry tears kept sliding down her face against her will. She wiped them away with the back of her hand. “I’ll just drop you off out front.”

“No, don’t do that yet, pull over, sweetheart,” Wilf said pointing to a visitor’s car park. “Here.” Wilf pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and offered it to her. “Now there’s no need for all that. I’m not worth tears.” Uncomfortable, he wrang his hands.

Donna took it and wiped at her face, the handkerchief coming away with half her makeup. “Oh great, now I’m going to be puffy and uneven,” she muttered.

A watery laugh escaped him. “There now, that’s better.”

“How is this better? You’re living in squalor, my mother hates me. I have a brother who incidentally, also hates me. Why he hates me after he stole all of my money… I was better off with my own Sylvia. She at least loved me if she didn’t like me very much,” Donna said in a rush and fresh tears escaped her. “And, I can’t stop crying. Tonight was supposed to end in cake, not tears.” Donna waved the handkerchief around. “I made it myself with the extra thick icing.”

Another laugh escaped Wilf. “Yeah, life’s funny innit? Here you are wanting a grandfather who’s in another dimension and me wanting a granddaughter back who doesn’t even love me. We’re a right pair.”

“Yeah, we are,” Donna agreed. “Look, I’m sorry I tried to pass myself off as the original version. I wasn’t any good at it was I? I should have slowly changed over or memorized more of her mannerisms. The Doctor walled off her memories for me so I could use them but not be them, or I could have become her. I can do that for you. I can have him remove the blocks.”

“And you’ll be her again?” 

Donna bowed her head, unable to meet his eye. She wasn’t sure she could do it. That other Donna was so awful, even worse than she had been before she met the Doctor. “Yeah.”

His hand gripped hers. “Nah, don’t do that, not for me.” Donna glanced up into his warm blue eyes. “I don’t think I could stand to do that to you. In the week or so you’ve been buttering me up, I’ve gotten to know you a little bit. I can’t pretend to understand all that sci-fi stuff, parallel worlds, and alternate people… But you’re alright.” Wilf patted her hand.

“Does that mean you want to move in with me?” Donna asked.

“You let me sleep on it. I’ve a lot to think about and a granddaughter to mourn.” Wilf climbed out of the car. “You can keep coming by if you want. If you tell me what's up with your friend, the Doctor.”

"Well," Donna drawled, "you can't be too hard on him. He's one of them aliens."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, bit angsty this one. I needed to deal with the very real connection Wilf felt for the other Donna. Next bit will be fluffy.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An interlude of sorts...

A slice of chocolate cake was slid into his peripheral vision. Squatting down next to the Tardis coral humming along in her happy growing phase, the Doctor realized he hadn’t moved in one hour, fifteen minutes, and four seconds. Tilting his head to crack his neck, he accepted the peace offering. A mug of tea slid into its place as the Doctor rocked back and dropped onto his bum. Donna stood back awkwardly hugging her elbow. “Thanks for making, serving, and clearing up dinner.”

Narrowing his eyes, he took a forkful of cake and examined it. It smelled amazing with no added scents like almonds or aspirin. “Not mad at me then?”

“No.” Donna dropped down next to him. He snuck a look to see her eyes were a bit puffy and overly bright. Dressed in work trousers and a simple black button-down, Donna looked a bit sad. She reached out to delicately touch the pink mark high on his cheek. “I realized what you were doing on the drive back to Wilf’s. I shouldn’t have hit you. I lost my temper.”

“I pushed you to do it.” The Doctor ate the bite of cake and an explosion of chocolate cakey goodness with a hint of rum. His Time Lord digestive tract immediately converted it to happy chemicals. “Oh! This is so good! Why do you work here? You should be running a little tea house with little cakes all of them like this! Or, with a bit of banana… I’m fine. I’ll heal by tonight.”

“Yeah, me owning a little shop… Add that to the list of things that will never happen.” She frowned at his cheek, worrying about it.

“Honestly, s’fine. Doesn’t hurt.” Rose had also been very accommodating with some creative use of ice. It had ended well for him. The Doctor smirked.

“Still, it will never happen again.” 

“I should hope not. I’m delicate,” he teased. “How did the drive go?”

“I told him you were an alien,” Donna confessed, “Is that alright?”

“I am an alien,” the Doctor said slowly, sipping the tea. It was hot and sugary. He beamed. “So, it is again, fine. Very fine. I’m erm, not very good at pretending to be human anyhow and he’s a wily old thing. He practically sussed me out at dinner. How did he take it?”

Donna smirked.

“Right,” the Doctor said. “And how does he feel about you being you and not--?”

“He still wants me to come by,” Donna responded, turning away from him. “I don’t know if I should.”

“Don’t know if you--” He shook his head in disbelief as the Tardis hummed a bit giving the Doctor her opinion on several upcoming timelines. She was coming along swimmingly now and developing in leaps and bounds. He latched onto the streams she was providing, opening his own senses. Several were promising, and a few were deadly dull. Unfortunately, he’d meddled enough, so he tried to remain neutral saying, “It’s up to you… but… But it seems like he still wants to be friends at least. Then roomies--maybe then he could come with us sometimes... not that I--erm.” Oops! Ugh, he was pushing her towards his favorite potential timeline not three seconds after deciding not to do it. Rose was right, he had no impulse control at all. Maybe he did eat all the toast this morning? He’d definitely polished off all the strawberry jam. He made a face. Oh well, in for a penny… “Why not go see him? Take him some of the cake.”

“You never stop,” Donna said without rancor. “You love meddling.”

Beaming, he downed the mug of tea and hopped up. Extending a hand to his friend, he said, “Speaking of meddling, Rose Tyler is in a boring business meeting. We should liberate her and convince her we need to go to Shoreditch.”

“Why Shoreditch?”

The Doctor shrugged. “I haven’t been there yet. Curious to see if Boxpark exists. Also, not work which is boring and shopping which is less boring. The Tardis suggested it. I need new shoes!”

“Oh no! If she’s now talking and suggesting places that’s trouble.” The coral pulsed and Donna eyed her suspiciously. “There that pulse? That means there’s probably an impending invasion.”

The Doctor arched his brows. The Tardis played coy. “Hm. Better take some stunners and Jake.”

“I cannot believe they exploded!” Rose stepped into Donna’s flat carrying several shopping totes. Only two of them were hers. She kicked off her goo covered trainers onto a mat by the door. “I’m glad I bought a new outfit before the aliens turned up. Jake wasn’t so lucky. He’s gonna take it out of our budget.”

“Oh, we haven’t even used half of ‘The Doctor accidentally destroyed a city block’ discretionary fund yet. And no one even has to touch the ‘Rose got angry and blew it up’ fund. And that was nothing! Just a bit of purple goo and rain. Pete can write it off as some odd form of performance art.” The Doctor bounced in behind her tracking gelatinous purple glop all over Donna’s hardwood floors. “Amazing! Never seen a species like that before! It was so War of the Worlds! What idiot species would land in London if they were allergic to rain? I know we’re more temperate here but come on! That was Davros level stupid. Jake managed to save two for me. They might not be sentient. I couldn’t get a word out of them and I can talk to anyone!” The Doctor spread wide his own shopping totes and flecks of purple scattered onto everything. “Bagsies the shower first!”

“Oh no, we’re guests,” Rose argued, pulling him to a stop. “And take your shoes off. You’re ruining the floors.”

He glanced down, purple glop sliding out of his hair and splatting onto the floor. His frown was adorable. “Yes. I am. Easy fix. I’ll grab a mop. Donna! Where’s your mop? Come on, shake a leg! Those steps aren’t that steep!”

“I am disgusting!” Donna shouted, stepping through the door. Rose snorted, amused. The purple goo had clung to Donna as if that were its mission. Even with the rain bucketing down, she was covered in a glistening lavender shell. Her hair was a hopeless disaster. Donna scooped her normally auburn hair up and out of her eyes. 

It was a shame, too. The Doctor and Donna had pulled her out of a day of meetings with some outlandish story of aliens in Shoreditch only for it to come true. Oh well, at least they’d gotten half a day’s shopping done and a bite of lunch before the inevitable adventure. Donna had been moody at first, grumping through the vintage stores until she’d found a big crazy hat. Unfortunately, Donna’s good mood had been cut short when the rain had hit dozens of small squirrel-like creatures, exploding them like extremely wet fireworks.

“Donna!” The Doctor protested, “You’re dripping all over the floor and no one’s told me where the mop is!”

“Shoreditch for shopping,” she growled, slopping more purple around as she shucked her jacket onto the floor to the Doctor’s dismay. 

“Mop, Donna, please!” Rose covered a smirk. He kept saying he didn’t do domestics and he didn’t like all the human-y stuff but he was a good mother hen. 

She flicked goo at him. 

“Aw, you did get some new kit! We stopped an invasion. Nobody died. It was a great day.” The Doctor shuffled off his shoes in a little excited jig. Rose beamed at him and it was hard not to laugh at the purple glop still stubbornly clinging to his hair. “I’ll clean up. Rose will make tea. You can have a shower and then we can order in. Perfect day! Perfect plan! I’ll even write up my notes on paper!”

Donna pointed to her coffee table where a yellow legal pad sat with a pen perched on top. “Not the back of an envelope or in the margins of my books, on actual paper?”

The Doctor nodded. “Mop?”

Donna pointed to the utility closet. Rose rushed to grab it before the Doctor made a bigger mess. “I got some amazing bargains,” she announced as she held up the mop and tugged the bucket free. “Three silk scarves, several tops, that lovely sundress…”

“I did get a great hat, and a vintage coat,” Donna conceded, losing her angry edge. “The tea is in the canisters. I’ll be right out.”

Alone, the Doctor merrily shucked off his oxford and socks, leaving him barefoot in trousers and t-shirt. “I wish we’d seen them before the rain. I would have liked to have observed them in their pre-exploded state. There aren’t many species that are gelatinous and water intolerant. Seems bizarre! I hope Jake can manage to keep the few we had left together long enough to run some tests.” 

Rose filed the kettle and set out mugs. “Pete already texted me. They have them in a dry room. They’re going to observe for now. I texted back no tests until you get there in the morning. Do you think Wilf will come around?” she asked, cutting to the elephant in the room.

‘Yeah, yes, yep, of course,” he said moving past her to fill the mop bucket with hot soapy water. “Wilf here is still warm and loving and worst of all lonely. Besides, he’s curious about me because I’m an alien. And I watched him at dinner before it went pear-shaped. He was enjoying the new version of Donna.” He leaned against Rose giving her a sideways hug. “She’s really the best Donna, all lovely and warm and shouty!”

“No wonder she and my mother get along,” Rose said dryly to watch him sputter. “Today was nice. Good distraction for all of us.”

The Doctor made short work of the mopping. He took the purple spattered clothes to the laundry and shoved them in, leaving the lid up for the rest of their things. By the time Donna returned in a big white fluffy robe, the room was spotless, and the tea was ready. Donna waved them both toward the shower. “It’s big enough for two. Go on. I’ll order pizza. Don’t use up all my water washing each other’s backs.”

Rose snorted. The Doctor blushed even as he allowed her to drag him off to the shower. Rose shucked all her clothes, turning the water up as hot as the Doctor could stand with his lower body temp. He was too busy tasting Donna’s shampoos. “We should stay here tonight,” Rose said as she lathered up.

He turned away from Donna’s products to follow her into the giant shower, losing the last of his clothing on the way. He took the soap and flannel from her. “Why?”

“Sleepovers are sort of our thing.”

The Doctor made a noncommittal sound. Donna’s soap was more floral than theirs and the aroma fascinated him as he scrubbed both of them clean. “Is this peony? Or some sort of gladiola? Sniff!”

“Smells like those carnivorous gardenias we saw on that world, you know, the one with the root beer floats and the…” Rose floundered.

“Pink goats!” they shouted together, collapsing against each other, giggling. 

His arms steadied her, dark eyes taking a tour of her wet skin, stopping a few times in each of his favorite places like her throat and her stomach and her upper thighs. His hands drifted down to give her bum a squeeze. Some things never change. “Also, it’s been hard for Donna adjusting to a parallel world...and you.”

“And you,” he added, dropping a soft kiss to her nose.

“I’ve been here the longest,” she reminded him and regretted it when he frowned. “S’fine. I didn’t mean it like that. I meant I’ve had the longest time to adjust. It hasn’t even been a month for Donna and you’re at seven months. So, tonight, why don’t we talk about the stuff they don’t have here and eat pizza and I’ll paint your nails a manly color.”

“I get to pick the color.”

“You get to pick the color.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I gave everyone a little cool off period in this one. Plus aliens...


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Another sleepover! These people love to hang out.

Donna swore, tossing her pencil away. She was losing the trivia game and it was so stupid because after she guessed wrong, the right answer would float up from the depths of her own mind. Gritting her teeth, she glared at her pad. Across from her, the Doctor was smug, with his mauve painted toes, black painted fingernails, and a mud mask coating his smirky face in muck a slightly darker shade of the stuff they’d all just washed off. He was winning by two stupid points. “I need more wine.”

Rose, dressed in Donna’s pajamas sat cross-legged on the chair with her notecards, shuffling. Donna appreciated them staying with her. She wasn’t about to admit that the whole catastrophe with Wilf has wrecked her. Bad enough the Sylvia in this universe had actual reasons to hate Donna this time around. Badder still that she had a twin here who didn’t want to be her friend. Worst was the loss of her grandfather. He wasn’t even hers. She had no right to be upset but she was. That sweet old codger would rather spend the rest of his life alone than accept her. Rose had noticed, of course, she had. The Doctor had mentioned in passing before he went down a heart that Rose was just brimming with compassion and had turned red when she’d teased him about her probably being a blonde. He had been underselling. In the two weeks, she’d been here properly, Rose had become like a little sister to her, a little sister with a banana honey mask on her face making her look vaguely golden and sticky. She tapped her cards with blood-red nails.

“Aw, why Donna? Not enjoying the game?” Her insufferable best friend teased, stripped down to a tee, and a pair of her soft heather blue sweatpants which were too short for his legs and forcing her to see his too bony ankles.

“Doctor stop being smug, you’ve named every country wrong including the one you’re currently in,” Rose said, deflating his ego. “And you need to memorize your dossier. You can’t keep looking bewildered and switching to another topic when someone asks you about our fake history. At our inevitable ostentatious wedding planned entirely by my mother, there are going to be reporters. They are going to ask you questions. You are going to have to know the answers to things like ‘where did we meet.’”

“Henricks,” he answered, glowing.

“Nope. Wrong. Donna wins.” Rose tossed the cards to the ground. “More wine. Then let’s do karaoke with the original lyrics to Umbrella...or Bicycle.”

“How did they get every lyric to that one wrong? I mean, it’s about bicycles!” the Doctor shouted.

“They’re not wrong, they’re just different,” Donna corrected as Rose grabbed the bottle of red and generously topped off their glasses. 

Grumbling, the Doctor stood up and walked off to her kitchen probably to get another slice of chocolate cake. His sweet tooth hadn’t been impeded by his sideways regeneration. He returned with several slices, three forks, and a stack of napkins. “All I’m saying is that I was wrong and Ringo was integral to the proper Beatles.” He settled in front of Rose. The two of them were like magnets, it was cute, and sent a pang of jealousy through Donna. 

“Change can be good,” Rose said, settling a hand on his shoulder. “Look at my parents! My father died in our universe. Pete’s wife died in this one and now they’re a new found family. And I get Tony out of the bargain.”

The Doctor murmured something tenderly like, “the little monster.”

“I didn’t get that,” Donna said bitterly. “I’ve lost my entire family.”

“No, you haven’t! You have me, we’re related now through the power of freaky weird alien science! And that means you get Rose as my mate,” Rose cuffed him, “wife, and by extension Jackie, Pete, and the little beastie. Then there’s Reggie and his friend who is not human friendly. Jake likes you! He only tolerates me and Henry-”

“Harry,” Donna corrected.

“Harry the tall dark and handsome R&D scientist to drool over…” the Doctor trailed off to eat cake. “Mmm.”

Rose cracked up. “We lost him to sweets.”

“I offered to become the other Donna for him, for Wilf.”

“Oh, Donna, no,” Rose protested. “How would that help anyone? Giving him back a granddaughter that used and abused him? And think of you in that body feeling resentful…”

“I wouldn’t remove the blocks.” The Doctor dropped his fork angrily. “That version of Donna isn’t like you. You’re brilliant!”

Conflicted, Donna sipped her wine to buy time to think. “I’d do anything to make that old man happy.”

“Not that.” The Doctor stared at her, mouth angry but eyes sad. “I’d put this version of you back in here,” he tapped his head, “and let that version die.”

Hot rage flushed Donna. Who the hell was he to decide? The Doctor stood up in a moody cloud and left the room, disappearing into Wilf’s bedroom. Donna’s heart hurt. 

Rose stared at her. “I know your first instinct is to be angry with him for not letting you choose. But it’s the Time Lord in him. Taking you out and letting the original timeline get back on track is the right thing to him. And watching you devolve into someone else… I don’t think either one of us could watch that.”

The heat drained out leaving the misery behind. “I wouldn’t have asked, not really.”

“I know.” Rose reached down and tweaked a piece of cake off the plate. “You’d miss me too much.”

Donna barked out a laugh. 

Building the telescope gave the Doctor something to do with his hands. Anger smoldered under the surface. His slightly higher body temp had been accompanied by a hotter temper and a shorter fuse. Removing himself from the room kept him from damaging situations irreparably. Setting up the tripod, he attached the telescope tube as he worked through why he was angry. The focus knob was small in his fingers and he glared at it. “You’d think someone would like being given a second chance at a good life,” he told it and attached it.

The knob didn’t have an opinion, so he moved on to the finder scope. “I’m enjoying my strange sideways life. I could be on the Tardis right now miserably trying to move on without Rose, possibly doing something asinine and selfish like having a midlife crisis and destroying a fixed point or eating pears to make myself suffer. Instead, I’m building a Tardis and a life and…” 

Attaching the diagonal mirror, he distracted himself by thinking about the focusing lens and mirrors inside the tube instead of the boiling hot need to shout at Donna, “Why aren’t you enjoying your second chance? Don’t you know the other you is NORMAL now?” It was unfair and unnecessarily cruel. If Rose had rejected him, he would have been a lot worse than Donna was right now. By the time the eyepiece was in place and he’d used the aiming control handle to find the North Star, he was calmer.

Donna appeared in the doorway. “It’s time to wash the muck off your face.”

“My pores are clean?” he asked lightly. 

“Not until you wash all the goop off,” she said, crossing her arms in a protective gesture. She was feeling vulnerable. “I didn’t mean to sound ungrateful. A chance to continue the life I was living with you, and the Tardis and now Rose...it’s everything I ever wanted. And knowing that a Donna has my grandfather in that other universe has to be enough. You and Rose are my family now. I am grateful.” 

Beaming, he swept her up in a hug. She squawked. “You’re getting muck all over me!”

“I am! Now your pores will be clean!” He spun her around before dropping her. 

Donna’s eyes flitted to the telescope. “Don’t think I’m going to need that.”

The Doctor opened his mind to the timelines. The strange extra effort needed was like a stiff muscle attempting to stretch. Lines swirled around her like copper strands. Some were obscured-possibly referencing his and Rose’s own future and hence obfuscation necessary-yet others were clear showing that her relationship with Harry in R&D was a dead end but… “I think you are. Let’s get some sleep. Everything looks better in the morning.”

Donna’s buzzer went off at the indecent hour of seven. She climbed out of her bed and dragged a robe on, aware that she had guests. Stepping into the living room, she found that Rose and the Doctor hadn’t made it to the spare bedroom. They were curled up under a green blanket and only tufts of their blonde and brown hair were available. Soft snores escaped the blanket. The cake plate sat empty on the floor beside them. Well, that explains why the Doctor hadn’t bounced out of bed to answer the door: Sugar Coma.

“I’m coming,” she growled as the buzzer went off again. She hit the intercom button. “Somebody better be dead.”

“Sorry, Miss Noble, there's a man here who says he’s your grandfather. Shall I send ‘im up?” Donna’s heart exploded. No way.

“Yeah Jimmy, go on. I’ll open the door for him.” Donna filled and flipped on the kettle. She glanced down at herself. “Oh, I’m not even dressed! Oi!” She shouted.

One warm brown eye opened as the Doctor pulled the green blanket down to reveal the snorer was Rose. He ran a hand through his messy hair making it worse. “Morning already, wizard,” he grumbled. “Is he here already?”

“You knew?!” Donna tried to kill him with her laser vision. He was unaffected, stretching like a giant house cat, careful not to shift the sleeping Rose too much. 

He shrugged. “Couldn’t be certain.”

Someone knocked tentatively on the front door. Donna growled at her outfit again, finger-combed her hair and hissed, “How do I look?”

“Like someone plugged you into an electric socket and then wrapped you in a big fluffy sheep.” He gently slipped out from underneath Rose in a practiced motion. “I’ll start breakfast.” He padded barefoot into her kitchen and Donna took a second to marvel at how naked he was these days. On the Tardis, she’d never seen him in less than his full kit. Now he was much more comfortable in his skin no matter how often he protested about the human bits.

She wasn’t exactly comfortable in her own skin right now as she lurched forward to open the door. Standing there with an old worn army duffle bag slung over his shoulder and a bin bag on the floor beside him was her grandfather twitching nervously. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Donna could not think of a single intelligent thing to say so they stood there staring at one another for a painful eternity. Finally, the Doctor called out, “How do you like your eggs, Wilf?”

Donna sparked forward pulling the door back and inviting him inside with a wave. He stepped inside, spotting Rose on the sofa. “I’m interrupting-I can go…”

“No, no, no, come in. We had a sleepover last night…” Donna shifted uncomfortably as she heard out loud how childish that sounded.

Wilf smiled, bemused. “Is that right?”

The sounds of pans banging around in the kitchen caught Wilf’s attention. If Donna didn’t know any better, the look on his face was open hunger. “Donna, was that offer of a place serious? Because I can't live on beans out of a tin anymore.”

“Yeah, ‘course.”

“Wilf, eggs!”

“Scrambled,” Wilf called out as Donna grabbed his bin bag full of things and pulled it inside, closing the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! All the comments have been very encouraging. I will have one more part for this story which has gone on waaaay too long.


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Conclusion!

Life was a funny thing. Wilf had been content to rot in his little room at the pensioner’s home. He’d made a few good friends, gotten into a bad card game, and had a good thing going on with one of the girls in the cantina. For old war stories, she’d sneak him the odd biscuit or two. It had been a good life and then a few years ago, things had gotten darker. The cantina girl had disappeared during that Cybermen incident. The summers had gotten hotter than hell. Stars vanished (and came back just as suddenly as they’d gone off.) Gladis had taken over the card game and turned the whole thing into a bit of a mafia. And just last month two of his friends had died of a bad flu. Then his money had started to dwindle from generously helping out his grandchildren, who always asked by phone and never came by unless they wanted to pick up a check. His daughter, Sylvia had never been the warmest thing, not even as a girl and her calls were dutiful and full of complaints about him not being there for her. Well, what did she expect when she had tucked him away never to be seen again? 

Wilf had been stuck in a sad sort of ‘existing’ and the cooking had never improved from the loss of that lovely young woman who’d most likely died in a cyber factory. Except for his cigarettes, things had been grim. Wilf was not the sort to let on that he was a bit disappointed in how his life had turned out but he was glad his Eileen hadn’t lived long enough to see it.

Then Donna had shown up with her friend the Doctor and here he was in a posh flat overlooking the Thames, being waited on by an alien.

Flustered, he sat in a plush recliner that hugged his old bones with a plate of scrambled eggs in his hands and his granddaughter from another Universe across from him, nervously plucking at her eggs over easy. The lovely Vitex Heiress was wrapped in a blanket behind her alien boyfriend, snoring. And the alien in question was shoveling french toast into his mouth, sopping with syrup and topped with a rather large pat of butter.

“Easy there son, you keep eating like that and you’ll do yourself harm.”

The Doctor paused, regarding the bread cooked in egg, milk, and cinnamon. “Nah,” he drawled. “Still got the metabolism for it.”

“Oh don’t get him started on his superior digestive tract. I nearly lost my lunch last time,” Donna snapped, then fell silent, staring at her plate.

An offended noise escaped the Doctor. “I do have a superior digestive tract and several extra bits to make short work of all of these calories. Don’t you worry about me,” the Doctor explained, defiantly adding more syrup to the soggy mess.

“He’s worried about me strangling you when the sugar kicks in,” Donna snapped again. “No caffeine. No sugar. No, absolutely no energy drinks. Remember what happened last time.”

“Oh, it was only one base under siege,” the Doctor grumbled, “I only shouted a little.”  
Wilf felt a frizzle of warmth for this pair. This was how she should have behaved with Donald! Pleasant health-based bickering over breakfast! “Do a lot of shouting, do you?”

“Erm,” the Doctor dropped his now empty plate onto the coffee table. “Sometimes.” His hand sought Rose’s and she gripped his hand in her sleep. “More like chastising speeches… Or inspirational speeches… Donna, you’re the shouty one!”

“Oi! I am not,” Donna shouted.

He couldn’t help it, Wilf snorted. “She does enjoy a good shout, I reckon.” The look of absolute betrayal on Donna’s face had him chortling. This Donna was a responsive woman and the look of exasperation on her face was warm and open. “‘Ere sweetheart, your mother is a shouter. It’s a family trait. Or, this is all so confusing, your parallel mother, my daughter here, she’s a shouter. Your mother may have been meek as a lamb...Sorry.”

“Sylvia? Meek! Ha!” 

“Oi! That’s my mother you’re maligning,” Donna growled.

“Oh, I know!” Shouted the Doctor, waking Rose with a start. “Sorry, Rose!”

“S’alright heard talking--” The blonde’s lovely eyes glowed with an inner golden light as they settled on Wilf. Again he felt a flush of warmth as a smile bloomed across her lovely young features. “‘Morning, Wilf. S’there tea?”

The Doctor made a fuss, clucking over her, and getting Rose tea before helping her into a sitting position, nattering on about eggs and what she wanted and he’d get it for her and a lot of other sweet nonsense. That reminded him forcibly of his Eileen. Love was a nice thing to see in this era of hookup apps and strange naked TV shows. 

He caught Donna sneaking peeks at him. “Go on, Donna. I know that look on your face. Ask your questions.”

“Why are you here?” she blurted, shocked at her one bluntness. 

His Donna had been cold and short with him. Wilf didn’t think this one would be. Brash, yes, loud and shouty, definitely, but she radiated intelligence and empathy. He could tell by the way the other two in the room reacted to her distress with distress. These three were honest friends and his Donna hadn’t had any of those. Shame that. He grieved for her. She could never have had this.

“I-I-I,” she stuttered, fluttering a bit. 

“S’alright,” Wilf held his hands out. “I’m not offended. I didn’t call. I should have and I’m sorry for that, sweetheart.” Wilf kicked his duffle. “And you can tell me to go if you like. But when you dropped me off after that very strange dinner, I called your mother, erm, your not mother...My daughter.”

“Oh why would you go and do a thing like that,” the Doctor muttered. Rose hushed him. Well, his parallel daughter had made quite the impression on the young alien man! That told him all he needed to know about the other Sylvia.

“Mum,” Donna repeated, “what did she say? What did you tell her about me?”

“I told her you’d come and offered me a place to stay in a posh flat.” Wilf put his own plate down onto the coffee table. “And she told me that I was out of money and I’d better take you up on the offer because she didn’t have anything to spare for me. She lives in a house that used to be mine. I know how much space she has. And she offered me none of it.” Angry, he clutched his mug of tea swallowing the hot milky tea instead of saying a lot of bitter things about his ungrateful child. 

“That’s awful,” Donna said, stricken. 

“Your mother never would have done that,” the Doctor said. “She would have put me in a box marked free aliens but she loved your granddad.”

Donna nodded reaching out to grip the Doctor’s arm for support.

Looking at that girl’s face, he could see her upset. He was touched. “I don’t know what I did wrong in this universe to be treated so poorly by family.”

“No, it wasn’t you…Never you, you were wonderful to all of us.”

“Yeah well, I’m done with them, the lot of them.” He glanced around at the nice oak floors, the walls like oceans and the plush rug under his feet, and the friendly faces around him and he screwed his courage to the sticking place. “If it’s all the same to you, I want to join your family.” Nervously he turned the mug in his hands. “Blood has let me down.”

Looks and eyebrow raises flew between the three friends. What if Donna had changed her mind? “I’m an old dog. I won’t take up much space. Bit of sunshine to pull up my chair in. I can do a bit of cleaning. Cook a bit. If…”

Donna knocked the mug out of his hands jumping into his arms and hugging him. “Yeah! Yes! Move in. I’m a terrible cook.” 

She pulled back, surprised at her own enthusiasm. “I--sorry. Yes.”

“Don’t you ever be sorry for that,” Wild said, eyes watery. 

“Oh,” the Doctor whispered, “I think I’m going to cry.” 

Rose hushed him. 

The Doctor was coming down the stairs from his lab. The Tardis had suggested he take a break by shocking him with his own sonic screwdriver. He pressed his palms into his eyes to relieve the pressure of the headache coming on. It was going to be a short day for him. He was going to need medication and sleep if the aura feeling continued. Grumbling to himself, he searched for his jacket and his Doctor friendly painkillers. 

Donna hadn’t been in in two days. She had sent a few texts about decorating Wilf’s room and taking him shopping for new clothes. The Doctor had ordered some new scarlet yarn that morning. He had begun to knit the man a cable knit sweater as another housewarming present. Whistling softly, he almost crashed into Rose, the bright light of her mind defused by the thirty minds around him in UNIT and his oncoming migraine. At skin contact the warm pink glow of her happy thoughts had him gripping her tighter.

“Hello,” she smiled with her trademarked smile.

His insides squiggled. “Hello. Rough morning?”

Rose let out a coffee-scented breath, always a sure sign she’d had a tough round of budgetary meetings. She was dressed in dark trousers and a satin mauve top. Her hair was back in pins and he wanted to pull some of the pins. She always looked so severe at work. She pulled out a pin and handed it to him, then a second and a third, shaking her curtain of blonde hair out. “I can hear you when you’re thinking that loud.”

Beaming, he pocketed the pins. “Accomplish anything?”

“We got your rice project off the ground. I had to fight another motion to create a death ray and an actual death ray that worked by targeting nonhuman DNA. They’re all megalomaniacs in R&D. I’ll point them out to you, so you know who you have to stop when things go pear-shaped.” Rose leaned against him, letting him steer them into the cantina.

“Want me to go down and be all Fire and Anger and Oncoming storm? I’ve been getting better at controlling my temper. Think I deserve a good shouty speech as a reward.” The large open space was loaded with UNIT scientists, long tables, and potted plants. Jackie had been at it again then. She told Pete that the place needed some sprucing up. The Doctor patted a species of Anthurium as they drifted by. Rose’s emotions became darker pink as she contemplated him giving an aggressive speech on peace.

“Yeah. I’ll arrange something,” Rose squeezed his arm. “Look, there are Mum and Donna!”

Rose waved enthusiastically as they rushed over to Donna. She was dressed in dark green trousers and a loose tunic top. When she saw them, she waved back. “You’ll never guess who they got to help with the lunch rush,” she called. 

The Doctor took in her twinkling blue eyes, her easy, open posture, and relaxed. Whoever was in the kitchen was not a bad thing. It was a very good thing which meant…

“Is that your friends, sweetheart? Doctor! Rose! I’ve signed up!”

“Wilfred Mott, you’re supposed to be retired,” the Doctor admonished him, smirking.

“Yeah well that’s all tosh! I’ve been retired long enough. ‘Sides, I need to pull my weight in my new family,” Wilf had a bright white apron looped over a new shirt and he was holding a spatula proudly.

“Stop nattering on, Wilf and get to the sandwiches,” Jackie teased. “Only joking. It’s his first day. Can’t really terrorize him until the second, can you?”

“Once she slaps you, you’ll really be one of us.”

Wilf eyed up Jackie. “Yeah, well, in that case… I better get to the sandwiches.”

Donna shoved her hands in her pockets, beaming. “Yeah. I’ll pick you up on my way out. And you,” she turned to Jackie, “thanks.”

“No, don’t thank me, I needed another hand in the kitchen. He’ll do just fine, old soldiers are good at taking orders and being efficient. Should have had my Pete go into the military.” Jackie grinned.

“Yeah Mum, your husband is the head of a super-secret military group and that’s not enough?” Rose asked, rolling her eyes.

“He’s not very efficient, is he? Takes hour-long showers, and ages to get dressed in the morning. I’d love it if I could shout, ‘Oi up and at ‘em.’ And watch him go.”

“I don’t think we need to hear about your love life, Jackie,” the Doctor remarked, feeling a bit green.

“Is it the conversation, or are you on the verge of a migraine?” Donna asked, grabbing his chin in her hand and tilting his head to look into his eyes. “Mm… You’re going home.”

“Yes ma’am.”

“We both are after lunch.” He glanced at Rose. She did feel less pink than usual. He was going to entice her into a lie-down. Pleased with the idea of snuggling up, he gripped her tighter. 

“That’s a girl you marry,” Jackie stated with no ulterior motive at all.

“I think she can do better,” Donna teased.

The Doctor snorted. “Oh, I know she can.”

“She has made her choice, thanks.” Rose mock glared at them all.

“Bit skinny,” Donna smirked.

“He's got some damn fine pins,” Rose said glancing at his thin legs. 

Preening, he fluffed up his hair a bit and gave Donna a smirky grin. She smirked back. Donna reached out, patting his arm. “And yet he hasn’t asked you to marry him… Or are you supposed to ask him to marry you? How does it work with your kind? The women in charge or what?”

The Doctor opened his mouth to respond when Wilf appeared in the window. “Who wants lunch?”

Aw, their little family was growing. The Doctor wondered vaguely if Donna and Wilf wanted to become Tylers too. “I want lunch.”

“Right, then,” Wilf said, taking orders.

“No gherkins on the Doctor’s, love,” Jackie shouted. “And get Rose the good chips from the lab, alright?”

“And me, Gramps!” Donna shouted. 

“Yeah alright sweetheart, keep your hair on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I had a lot of fun with this one and I loved all your comments. The fluffiness continues. This series will be back.

**Author's Note:**

> The people wanted to know what happens next, so more fun! Make comments, get more stories, probably. Or at least until I run out of ideas...


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